


Naruto Tumblr Prompt Fills

by amako



Series: Naruto Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Battlefield, Blood and Gore, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Hokage Sakura, Multi, Murder, Older Characters, Prompt Fill, Romance, Tumblr Prompt, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22252735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amako/pseuds/amako
Summary: Feel free to ask for a ship and a prompt on my tumblr @dimancheetoileSee for ships I accept/refuse: https://dimancheetoile.tumblr.com/fics
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Hyuuga Hinata, Haruno Sakura/Sai/Yamanaka Ino, Haruno Sakura/Tenten, Haruno Sakura/Yamanaka Ino, Hyuuga Hinata/Karin, Hyuuga Hinata/Tenten, Hyuuga Hinata/Yamanaka Ino, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara, Tenten/Yamanaka Ino
Series: Naruto Tumblr Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/829131
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	1. HinaKarin - "Never trust a survivor"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: FOR YOUR MINI PROMPTS! HINAKARIN “NEVER TRUST A SURVIVOR UNTIL YOU LEARN WHAT THEY DID TO SURVIVE”

There are eyes drawing shapes on the back of her skull. She can feel it, like you feel a hot breath against your nape when someone’s standing too close to you. The shivers of intimacy and closeness, and the discomfort of a breach of personal space, the sticky feeling of _too much_. One of her first promises to herself, when everything was over and she stood on her own two feet with shaky limbs and a broken heart, was to face trouble and never look down. Stop being a coward.

(what she doesn’t know is that they’re both thinking the same thing, as they stand in the warm room, not meeting eyes, one looking at the wall and the other at a turned back. _Stop being a coward._ )

Karin turns around and her eyes find an activated Byakugan, veins carved like a bas-relief in the temples of Suna. She shivers, the feeling of _closer_ and _too close_ battling in her chest where her heart is pounding, hot and heavy. At her feet, the body is still oozing slow, slick blood, quickly becoming too thick and stringy. It’s drying out on her fingers, cracking, the smell of iron overpowering in the summer heat.

“I’ll help you dig.”

(it”s just one sentence, just a few words dancing from soft, plump lips, a string of sounds like pearls on an ivory collarbone, nothing but waves cutting through the air with meaning slapped onto it with force like intent, hoping it’ll stick. it’s just one sentence, but when Hinata pats the fresh patch of dirt to make it smooth, sealing forever the grave of the last Uchiha, all Karin can hear is the promise of a future) 


	2. SakuInaInoTen - "I am teeth. I am royal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: FOR THE 4TP, SAKUHINAINOTEN “I AM TEETH. I AM ROYAL. YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME.” 👀

It’s strange, how easy life has been on them, lately. A few years back, none of them would have ever said they had a good life. An easy life. Happy days stretching over weeks filled with joy and quiet moments, an appreciation of everything good in this world, just ripe for them to pick. The world used to be a bush of thorns and briars, for the four of them. Except it all changed when Sakura became Hokage. Not that they wouldn’t have been able to be happy without it. But what it gave them, was a choice. Keep living in this world that threw every horror at them to see what would stick

(so much, too much, gore and death haunting their nights and sucking the life out of them even on the best days, trauma shinobi is thee name)

or shake the very foundations that world was built on to see what would be left standing. For all their faults, they never stopped at a challenge, and so Sakura punched society in the face with all the force of her training, upbringing and convictions, and changed everything. Years later, it’s hard to look back and remember just how bad it was, before the Protection Act and the equality laws and the reforms and the riots and the subsequent semi-civil war. It’s hard to remember a world where they don’t have six beautiful children, sharing their faces, their name, their home, children carried by bodies that used to only bring death or found on the streets of a village they never thought would have that many orphans.

The Hokage mansion is alive and well with the sound of healthy laughter and running kids, the four pillars of Konoha just going about their days all around the house. It’s peaceful. It’s happy. It’s all the more stable from the blood that was spilled to build it. It’s satisfying, in a way, to know that their garden grows best where they buried their ennemies.


	3. MadaTobi - "I want to be fought for"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOR THE MINI PROMPTS MADATOBI AND ❛ I’M TIRED OF FIGHTING. FOR ONCE, I WANT TO BE FOUGHT FOR. ❜ PLEASE :)

A piercing, shrill sound is drilling a hole in his ears. He can’t remember when his vision became blurry, only that he cannot focus. Shapes and colours, moving around him, the sounds drown out by the almost voice-like shriek destroying his ear-drums. His knees are wet. It’s distracting, slightly annoying, like a fly on your lips on a long summer night. The fabric is bunching up, mud sipping through the thread to cover the skin of his knees. He feels like his heart is crawling its way up his throat, filling up every corner of his mouth, choking him. Distantly, he hears screaming.

Oh.

It comes back to him, slowly, like a calm stream coming down from the mountains separating them from Iwa. (why can’t he focus, his thoughts always associating images, scents, sounds to what he’s trying to think about, until his mind is just a pool of metaphors and confused thoughts?) The memories of rain, an absolute downpour that soaked all of them to the bone even before they could draw their weapons. (why can’t he focus?) They’re on a battlefield. They were. Maybe they still are. He can’t focus. There’s nothing of the usual thunder of screams and weapons slamming against each other around him. He might not be on a battlefield, then.

There’s a hand on his knee, despite the mud and the cold, disgusting, gooey wet dirt stuck to the fabric of his wide, soft pants. He looks up. Tries to. His eyes are too blurry, he can’t see anything, and the ear-shattering sound isn’t helping with that; What’s wrong with him?

“Focus,” says the voice, and _he’s trying_. He recognizes the voice, first, until fingers are wrapping around his nape, a thumb brushing the skin underneath his ear, where it meets the jaw. “Focus,” the voice says once more, soft air against his ear, overpowering the piercing sound. There are lips against his earlobe. His eyes are beginning to focus. He recognizes the dark hair and the dark eyes and the feather-like skin, pale and smooth except for where it isn’t because he grew into his acne scars until the sun of a battlefield in Suna gave him freckles that never went away and now the freckles have the texture of acne scars and he loves it, loves drawing constellations connecting his acne freckles, sun-blessed scars, a map of a starry sky drawn on his cheeks as if for his eyes only in the deepest, darkest time of night.

Oh.

“Focus,” Madara says a third time and Tobirama comes back. Madara is kneeling in the mud too, but he hates it, he hates it so much, he should be yelling and complaining and there’s no screaming, but there was a moment ago, wasn’t there? Tobirama’s own knees are hurting, and they’re too wet and he doesn’t like it. His side is hurting, so he looks down, Madara following his move, and both of them see at the same time the arrow sticking from between two of his ribs. Madara is murmuring something, his hands gentle against his torso, lighting up with green in the medical jutsu Tobirama taught him.

“I’m tired,” he whispers, a murmur against Madara’s hair where it falls on Tobirama’s chest. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Madara looks up sharply, silent. “I’m tired of fighting. It hurts. It _hurts_.” Madara closes his eyes, head hanging with his shoulders dropping in defeat.

“I’m sorry, my love.” Tobirama’s eyes are lost in the distance, letting Madara’s voice wash over him. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

Tobirama’s head falls against the bark of the tree behind him. He closes his eyes. The warmth of the jutsu against his wound is gone. A man starts screaming. Then another. Then a body hits the ground in a wet thud. Tobirama’s eyes are closed. Madara’s scent is all around him, he hears the man grunt before another body hits the ground, before another voice screams. A soft smile graces his lips. Another scream. As Madara fights Tobirama’s battle, the world shrinks to a single point of focus. All he can think about are the acne freckles. He can’t wait for tonight.


	4. SaiInoSaku - "I want to be fought for."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: IF YOU ARE WILLING "I’M TIRED OF FIGHTING. FOR ONCE, I WANT TO BE FOUGHT FOR." FOR SAISAKUINO? I COULDN'T FIND INFO ABOUT THIS SHIP ON YOUR PAGE, SO IF YOU DISLIKE IT I AM SORRY TO BE BOTHERING YA!
> 
> note: since I dislike SaiIno but still wanted to make this person happy, this is to be read as a V-shaped poly relationship with Sakura in the middle but Sai and Ino are just great friends.

Ino has an armful of groceries, Sai trailing behind her with bags upon bags of clothes for the donation event they’re planning. She drops everything on the kitchen’s table and begins putting the food away while Sai adds the clothes to their ever-growing pile of things they’ll put on display for people who need it to come and pick it up. She absent-mindedly opens the bottle of orange-ginger juice as she’s putting away the eggs. The sharp taste tingles on her tongue and she hums in satisfaction.

“INO!”

She jumps in surprise, dropping her glass. Shaking a bit, she doesn’t even stop to think and runs towards the bedroom. On a battlefield, you don’t waste time having thoughts when this happens. Ino works at the psych department, she sees people every day, hears them tell her about a pile of trauma they could all compete against each other for. No matter what anyone is saying, they’re still on the battlefield. Not a single one of them has left it, not inside anyway.

Sai is on his knees next to the futon they share on the nights they manage to go to sleep at the same time. Lying on the futon, pale enough to fade into the sheets, naked, is Sakura. Curled up on herself, sobbing uncontrollably. Ino swallows hard, her hands finding Sakura’s hair, eyes briefly flickering to where Sai’s fingers are drawing shapes on Sakura’s back.

They’ll ask later, when she feels better, when she’s standing tall enough to tell them without looking away. Because this right there isn’t Sakura and she would be ashamed if they brought it up. Like she always is, no matter how many times this has happened since she took up the hat. Her bare skin a signal for closeness this time, sometimes fully clothed for conversations they need comfortable fabric and large clothing for, and so they both strip and Sai slips between the sheets, wiggling his way into Sakura’s arms who wraps them around him gently, checking on her strength which in turns helps to calm her down a bit. Ino crawls behind Sakura, hugging her tight.

They’ll talk later. For now, they have to care for the most incredible woman they know.


End file.
